"Fuck..." All Sherlock could do was watch John undress and climb up on his hands and knees. His cock, hot and full, was long enough that it almost touched the sheets under him. His balls hung low as well, dark between his legs.

It was a wonder that he wasn't coming right now.

"Fuck, John." He repeated. "You have absolutely no idea how fucking hot you are, do you? Look at you, hard and dripping onto my sheets, ready for me." He gulped, shifting himself in his trousers in a vain hope of trying to stop himself from coming in his trousers from looking at this feast in front of him.

"You really have no idea."